shadow
by DedicatedWallflower
Summary: She would never be able to live that day down. No high would escape the pounding of her heart as she stumbled into a room she had no plans of being in. She was no magician, no illusionist, or prized mentalist. She had no explainstion as to why they chose her. She was an addict who could escape any situation, run any length to make a clean getaway, and he was addicted to her.
1. epigraph

The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.

Marcus Aurelius

Cast:

Dave Fraco: Jack Wilder

Gigi Hadid: Felicity Trina

Jesse Eisenburg: J Daniel Atlas

Isla Fisher: Henley Reeves

Woody Harrelson: Merritt McKinley

Aaron Carter: Nathan Stein


	2. prologue

She would never be able to live that day down. No high would escape the twisting of her stomach as she stumbled into the apartment she had been to so many times, or maybe it was the one three doors down, or even her mind tricking her as she shoved through the already open door with her head pounding as though her skull was just a barrier to break down.

Their faces were startled as they took her in, but then again, her face was no better. Fumbling over her words, she stumbled around until the girl rushed out to catch her before her body hit the rotting wood floors.

The people around her had hissed whispers back and forth. tense arguments spewed as she lay slumped in the arms of a stranger, unbothered by the words that harshly left the lips of those around her. She was too far away, mind spinning like a wheel that wouldn't stop turning.

So, there she lay, spilled over in the arms of a stranger, in an apartment with no apparent drug stash, listening to people decide her fate.

"We can't just take an addict with us."

"What do you suggest then, Daniel, she's already seen too much." The redhead quips, shuffling her hold on the limp girl trying her hardest to keep her on her side in case of unpleasant illness.

"She doesn't have a card, she isn't a part of the plan." The boy argues further, looking at each of the magicians in the room, ready to dismiss the topic.

"Can I just-" the mentalist tries, motioning to the druggie in Henley's arms.

"No." Both respond nearly rehearsed, each shooting the other an exasperated glare. The silence in the room overbears like a pregnant pause, everyone at a stalemate.

"I think we should take her. I mean whoever brought us here had everything planned perfectly, they wouldn't have just allowed her to stumble in without a reason." The last speaks up, anxiously shuffling a well-worn deck of cards in his hands.

"The kid does have a point, she could be a part of this."

Everyone turns to look at the youngest member who seems to stand bolder now that he has some kind of plan for her, and in result, himself.

"Fine, you two take care of her. Just keep her out of the way. You have our mission, don't let some drug addict fuck it up." Atlas states, giving the girl another completely disgusted look.

She's mumbling now, her gaze locked on the dazzling blue and white outlines that run light up the walls. Her eyes trace them swiftly like she's taking them in with quick precision.

"What do we do with her? It looks like she hasn't eaten in weeks." Henley murmurs in Jack's direction.

He doesn't really acknowledge her question, instead trying to listen to the words leaving her trembling lips. When it becomes obvious that her words are completely incoherent, he looks back in the illusionist's direction.

"One of us has to take her." He shrugs, not looking too bothered at the prospect of taking the random girl with him.

"If you think she's going to travel with us, she's going to have to be sober." The control freak states giving Jack a pointed look.

"Why don't you take her? Just for tonight, and then we can figure out everything tomorrow, when she's not," Henley pauses to look over the girl "high like this." She continues "She has to be a part of this plan, or they wouldn't have let her in like this."

"Give her here." Jack smiles, and Henley gladly hands over all 100 pounds of the skinny girl.

"We can just figure out everything late." Henley sighs, gabbing he things quickly, heading away to bid the other two goodnight.

As soon as the door slams shut behind the redheaded illusionist, the high girl is on her feet. Distancing herself from Jack, she lets out a series of unintelligible cries, cuss words scattered between. He arms flail and her eyes scan the room, wildly she spins, planning an escape. The men left rush to stop her as she flings herself at a window.

Atlas is the first to reach her, and in any other situation Jack would have died laughing at the spectacle presented before him. The girl has managed to dodge all of Atlas's attempts to catch her, but is landing wild slaps to his face and neck.

"Well if this isn't a dream." Merritt muses, taking a seat on the worn-down couch "hit him harder, watch your right, atta girl." He hoots, initiating more irritation from Daniel.

"Do you mind? Can one of you please get her restrained?" Daniel gripes, holding the girl at arm's length the best he can.

"No can do." Merritt laughs, pretending to be occupied with digging through a massive pile of rubble.

Jack rolls his eyes, shaking himself out and moving to help Atlas.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down." He commands, and the girl immediately stops her dizzying cycle to look at Jack with an unnerving gaze.

Shuddering under the hauntingly empty eyes of the wild girl, Jack finds himself stepping forwards, reaching out to her with a hand that could almost be timid.

"No-no." she stutters, dropping towards the ground "Don't come closer." Her body shudders like her words are physically draining her, and her small arms shield her face in preparation from something that never comes.

Jack raises his hands at her, a gesture intent on showing her his innocence, but a disconnect forces her into a corner. No one moves as the girl whimpers, cowering into the corner with her hands over her ears. She rocks, humming a tune to herself with panicked breaths.

Jack's eyes snap over to meat Merritt's, silently pleading with the mentalist to take her pain away, because somehow, he already wants more than just safety for her, in her mind, and reality.

"hey, it's okay, no more hands. I won't hurt you, I promise." Jack tries again. One hand leaves her ear, listening to him as closely as her mind will allow her.

"That's it, you're on your own. Be here on time tomorrow, we have lots to cover." The self-proclaimed leader turns on his heels, confidence from his new title oozes from him. Throwing open the door he exits abruptly, the door slamming behind him.

"Well, this has been fun." Merritt tips his hat, snapping his fingers at the girl until she looks at him.

The snaps don't stop, and the mentalist offers her words. She is entranced in them immersed in everything he's saying.

"And, sleep." He snaps one last time "she should be much easier to handle now, but heads up, she seems like she's the wild type." Merritt throws Jack a disgusting wink, before following Atlas out the door and down to the street.

"Okay, I guess it's just you and me sweetheart, just you and me." Jack takes her little body up into his arms, balking at how skinny she is.

As he does, something flutters to the floor, catching Jack's eye. With furrowed brows, he places the girl onto the tattered couch, moving to investigate further.

The card in his hand feels heavy with importance, and his eyes snap to the girl lying on the couch slack jawed.

The face of a tarot card glares up at him, and he can't help but feel relieved, she has a reason, a purpose.

She is THE MOON.


	3. One

Her body had tremored since Jack had laid her down on his couch. Forehead sticky with sweat, her eyes were still tightly shut, but her could swear she may be awake. He almost wishes she was awake so that he doesn't have to watch her writhe on his tattered couch.

Slowly, he slinks over to her, apologizing profusely in his mind as he stares down at her trying to figure out where her wallet is. Usually he'd feel no remorse in taking a wallet, even one of an inebriated person, but this seems different. This time she actually matters, and no matter his intention, if she was to wake up, irreparable damage could be done.

Lightly tapping her pockets and cursing the situation, he finds nothing, but the purse halfway underneath her is a saving grace. Ever so carefully he pulls it out from under her. She only mumbles in protest for a moment before falling back into sleep.

It's old, the inside lined with various holes. The first Jack can find in the ratty thing is a bag of some kind of pills. Almost instantly he walks to the bathroom, dumping the contents into the toilet with disgust.

He searches more, keeping his eyes on the girl whose long blonde locks splay across his couch When he finds the wallet, his hands search instantly, feeling around to find any source of identification for the girl.

Her license finally comes free, and her name blares up at him like a stream of light he can't resist.

 _Felicity Trina_ the picture on her license is a much more wholesome person. Her cheeks have color, and she has no sense of wild about her. She looks beautiful, more so than now without a doubt.

There are a few pictures of her in the faded pocket of the brown wallet, the progression is easy to see. Through the pictures, her cheeks grown then, and her skin as ashy as grey dust.

Instead of taking her money, Jack's hand automatically reaches to take the picture where she looks happiest.

As he turns the picture in his hand, letters catch his eye. Spelled out on the back of the picture is his name in the most beautifully intricate handwriting.

"What are you doing with that?" a voice breaks his spell, and flustered he drops her purse to the floor. Some of the contents splay out across the worn shag carpeting.

"Are you stealing from me?" anger is laced with her words when the boy in front of her neglects to respond.

"No, I swear, I was just looking for an ID, that's all." He stutters out, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

She ignores him, grabbing the purse and searching frantically for something she obviously does not have.

"You took them?" her words are harsh, and she glares daggers into his soul when he refuses to respond.

"The pills?" Jack shuffles on his feet, watching her with deep apprehension.

"Yes." She states, deadpanning at him, her dark eyes flaring.

"I flushed them." He states lamely, looking away from her like that could make her less threatening.

"You fucking moron." She grits out, chucking her purse, the closest thing she can reach straight at his head.

"Hey, watch it." Jack ducks, moving again when a tube of lipstick is flung next. Taking a step towards her to stop her, she cowers.

Like a repeat of the previous night, Felicity has her hands covering her head, whispering apologies over and over. Still just as unsure of what to do, Jack steps back, trying his hardest to assure her that he won't hurt her.

"Sleep." He tries, snapping his fingers. She freezes, and for a moment he belives it may have worked, but when her head turns and her gaze on him is completely incredulous, he knows he has failed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she questions, a stark contrast from the cowering girl of just moments ago.

"You can't take them anymore. Daniel said that in order for us to work together, you have to be sober." Jack has never felt more under a microscope than he does under her scrutinizing stare.

"Who is Daniel? Did Nathan put you up to this." He doesn't miss her eyes clouding over, or the involuntary way her body folds in on herself. She's afraid.

"No, I don't know a Nathan, and the horsemen, Daniel, you almost killed him last night?" he asks, but she doesn't remember a moment of how she got to his house, it's evident all over her face.

"I know Nathan put you up to this, just don't tell him. I'll do anything, just please don't tell him I'm here." She pleads, her eyes stormy as she stares at the man in front of her, studying him like he's the most intricated thing she's ever seen.

"Calm down, I don't know Nathan, and from the sound of it, I don't want to. You're a part of something bigger now. Don't worry about him." Jack clears his throat, taking a step towards the trembling girl.

"You swear it?" She asks finally, her eyes glancing over at him before returning to the floor.

"I swear it. I'll protect you, we all will." He decides, giving her a small grin.

"I, I need those pills." She states.

"You can't have them anymore."

There's a long pause between the two of them, and for a moment Jack thinks she may lose it on him again, but instead she nods slowly.

"Withdrawal," she pauses, her shaking hands wringing with each other.

"The mentalist can probably fix that." Jack comforts, still standing as awkwardly as he can in front of her.

"Mentalist?" her voice wavers with uncertainty, and she steps back to her bag, reaching for a small cell phone tucked in a pocket.

"Yeah, like mind control." He tries to explain, trailing off as he heads towards the kitchen "I don't really have much in here, but we can go get breakfast before we have to meet the others. I could make coffee too."

She pads silently behind him, staring at her phone with a pale face. He notices, but says nothing, unsure of what to do to comfort this perfect stranger. Instead, he just goes about making a pot off coffee, knowing that he may need one more than her.

"Where exactly are we going?" she finally asks as the pours her a cup.

"There's this old apartment, uh, I guess we work there or whatever now. I hear the payout is going to be good, and it's a steal from the rich thing."

"Oh." She whispers, sipping at the coffee. It honestly isn't the best cup she's ever had, nor the worst, but it's coffee none the less.

"So what do you do anyways, sleight of hand, illusionist, mentalist?" he asks, grinning over at her with a glint in his eye.

"I don't know what any of those are, and I have no clue what you're talking about." She frowns.

"Huh, I wonder what they chose you for." He shrugs his shoulders, motioning for her to follow him.

Placing her cup on the counter, she turns to follow him, yesterday's dress clinging to her much too skiny frame.

"You can borrow these for now." Jack stands in the doorway of a messy room a lump of clothing in his arms.

"Thank you." Her voice is distant, but she takes the clothes none the less.

Following his point towards the bathroom, Jack finds himself outside the door, letting out a deep breath before pulling out his deck of cards and flipping them around in his hands, shuffling them in ways far more advanced than anyone he knows.

"How do you do that?" a small voice breaks him from his thoughts mid shuffle, and a few cards escape. They flutter to the floor noiselessly, and Jack makes no move to get them.

"It's easier than it looks, I can show you sometime." He offers, taking a look at Felicity now that she's cleaned up.

The heavy makeup has been washed from her face, and her hair is pulled out of her face. The clothes hang on her, but it should do.

"Okay, I meant to ask you, how did I get invited to join this little club?" she asks, cocking her head to the side as she watches the boy in front of her carefully.

There's not much else to do but accept the offer. Going back to Nathan is worse than taking a leap of faith and trusting a complete stranger. She's always been compulsive, no matter how it was beaten out of her. Still it guides her, and in this moment she can't resist.

"I don't know. We each got tarot cards from someone. I have yours here." He pauses to dig in his pocket.

The two tarot cards seem to be one as he pulls them free from the mess of objects in his back pocket. Honestly the pocket could go on forever.

"The Moon." He hands her the card, smiling as she turns it in her hands carefully.

"And you?" she asks, locking eyes with him.

"Death." A smirk spreads across his face.

She rolls her eyes, grabbing her stomach as a particularly loud growl nearly shakes her.

"About that food." She nervously smiles.

"Yeah, let's go. Atlas will have our asses if we aren't there on time. I don't know who put him in charge." Jack grins, grabbing a ring of keys off the counter.

He doesn't miss the way she looks down at the old silver cell in her right hand like someone could pop out of it and kill her, but again he says nothing. With a sickly look, she drops the phone to the floor, putting on what he assumes is a brave face, and following him out the door.

He watches her silently as she walks ahead of him on the just brightening city streets. All around owners are opening up shop, the city just barely coming alive. She's sickly, that much is for sure, but she's shrouded in mystery.

She steps out of the shadow of a building, turning to look back at him, and his mind flies over every reason she's with him. Every reason that his name was on the back of her picture, and he draws a blank. Another shadow encompasses her ahead of him, playing off her pale skin, and he knows that whatever she does, whatever she is, will be extraordinary.


End file.
